Rough Draft

I tried strumming my guitar as hard as possible, hoping that the strings would break or something. I wished I could just pick up my guitar and slam the entire thing on the wall. Then, I turned to my ball. I just rammed it at the wall again and again, shaking the entire house and waking everyone up.

Do I care ? No.

I ran for the aquathalon today, and I don't wanna elaborate too much on it. I just felt like sweating it all out on a friday afternoon, then end the race panting for breath. Parents-teachers meeting irritated the hell out of me, I'd have beaten up the teacher right there and then if my parents were not around. I improved, damn it, and I've got absolutely no idea why I got that much criticism, instead of praise. Yeah, so my results were not really pretty, but hey, it's a start. Get on my nerves again, and I swear I'll fling that chair right at your smirking face.

I'm truly sorry. I've got no one to turn to currently, and I've been venting my frustrations on everything I see or find lying about. This blog was once a place I could write freely, and now it seemed to have become a place where I'm judged and condemned. But now, I don't care anymore. Say whatever you want, and you can criticise for all I care.

I swore that I'm gonna put my life straight, starting with my results. And what I said, I made sure I did. But what I got was more criticism, more discouragements. What was meant to take away the burden on my shoulders only added yet another ton of weight. List me any way I can take, that would lead me to just a moment of peace, yet it's somehow impossible. Signboards point to different cliffs, all beckoning me to fall deep into the pits of hell.

I don't care.

And I refuse to be bounded.

Yes, shoot me.